


This Is The Last Time

by neil4god



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is a Failwolf, Derek is a cuddler, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Get together fic, Heart-Broken Stiles (doesn't last long), M/M, Minor angst maybe, Oblivious Derek, Oneshot, Sharing beds, Songfic, creeping through the window, vaguely futurish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:27:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2398442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neil4god/pseuds/neil4god
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek can't seem to stop himself. There are times when he has no other choice but to obey his instincts. He never stops to wonder why his instincts always lead him to Stiles's door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is The Last Time

_“I find myself at your door just like all those times before, I’m not sure how I got here, all roads lead me here. . . You open your eyes into mine and everything feels better and right before your eyes I’m breaking. . .” ___

____

He didn’t know how he got there, what in particular drew him out of his loft and halfway across town, but something in his chest loosened when Stiles opened his window to let him in. He felt fragile and cut open even though, for once, he was fine. He wasn’t covered in blood or battered and torn, he was perfectly ok. So ok that he should be sleeping next to Braedan like he did every other night but something stopped him. His wolf had dragged him from their warm bed and into this boys room. 

They didn’t speak, after all it wasn’t necessary, Stiles simply threw him a blanket and got back under the covers. He settled himself onto the nearest chair, tugging off his boots and shrugging off his jacket. He considered keeping his jeans on but they were too tight to sleep in. He felt ridiculous standing there in the dark in boxers and a t-shirt so he stripped until only boxers remained. Feeling better than he had in hours he pulled the blanket up and tossed it onto the end of the bed before sliding in next to Stiles. The boy huffed at him and Derek could smell the acrid scent of arousal and hurt but he ignored it. Stiles shuffled closer, letting Derek settle an arm around his waist and pull him close. They weren’t spooning, because that would have been weird. Instead they lay face to face as Derek’s wolf uncurled and bathed in Stiles’ scent. With a grumble and another minute of fidgeting they slept.

_You find yourself at my door, you wear your best apology but I was there to watch you leave . . ._

Stiles hated that this was happening, that he was letting this happen, but he couldn’t stop himself. No matter what went wrong, Derek would always come to him and even in their worst fights, Stiles would let him in. He must be a masochist or something, to intentionally hurt himself like this. If he was then he didn’t know how to stop it, he told Derek once, “I wish I knew how to quit you”  
Derek got the reference but he didn’t get the meaning. Or maybe he did and he chose to ignore it. There were times when Derek almost seemed compelled, like something was driving him into Stiles’ arms. It didn’t matter who Derek was sleeping with, man or woman, as soon as things started to get on top of him, he was at Stiles’ window. He handled it better at first, he imagined it was a one-time thing but one became two and two became ten and now, well now he’s lost count. 

He looks down, eyes on the hardwood floor and mumbles out an apology, but Stiles knows he doesn’t mean it. He knows that he should kick him out or make him sleep on the floor. He knows he can’t keep doing this to himself, it hurts too much. It hurts to watch him leave, to wake him and know he’s going back to his lover. What they do isn’t sexual, sure they wake up with morning wood, sometimes even rubbing up against each other, but Derek is faithful. Even when he’s not with someone he still never lets it become sexual. This is some kind of cathartic thing for him, but Stiles doesn’t find it cathartic, not anymore. So he tells him, “This is the last time.”  
If they keep doing this then Stiles is going to break right in front of him. Derek looks up, eyes wide as he promises, “I won’t hurt you anymore.” Stiles doesn’t believe him.

_This is the last time I’m asking you this, put my name at the top of your list, this is the last time I’m asking you why you break my heart in a blink of an eye. . . This is the last time you tell me I’ve got it wrong, this is the last time I say it’s been you all along, this is the last time I let you in my door . . . This is the last time, I won’t hurt you anymore._

The pack had just left when Derek felt it, the tug pulling him towards Stiles. It was worse than usual, his entire body straining with the need to go to him. He had his jacket on and his keys in hand before he even realised it. This wasn’t like the other times. The first few times it happened he chalked it up to pack safety and a scent thing. He let his wolf have free rein and drag the boy into the bed scent marking him. Now it’s become something else, something visceral and vital. He knows it’s hurting Stiles, that whatever he was getting out of it at the beginning is long gone. Derek has never been a selfish person, he’s never wanted something so desperately that he can’t live without it, he’s always been the one to make the sacrifice to be the martyr except with this. 

It’s been days since he’s seen Stiles for more than five minutes, it’s been over a month since the last time he found himself at his window, since he promised to stop. There’s a trembling in his gut and his wolf is screaming to get out, to find Stiles. Mostly he tries not to think about it, about why he needs this so much. He’s outside Stiles’ house when he realises what a mistake this is. He shouldn’t be here. He can’t keep asking this of Stiles, not when it’s obviously hurting the boy. He can’t seem to make himself leave though. He sits in his car, the rain pounding on the bonnet not loud enough to drown out his thoughts. There has to be a reason he’s here. It can’t be because it’s easy or convenient because it’s not. Nothing about this situation is easy. He is hurting Stiles every time he does this. 

He sits there for hours trying to think it through, fighting the desperation inside him, the whining wolf begging him to go inside. Everything will be better if he can just go inside. That thought bounces up and down and back around his brain forcing him to pay attention to it. How can it be better? Why should being in that house and not his own make him more comfortable? His wolf whines again, insistent and angry, so he reassesses. This time he’s not here for himself, he’s here for Stiles. Stiles is in there and he’s hurt, heart broken, because of Derek. He feels a spark of anger and exasperation because this should have been obvious. It’s their turn to give comfort, to make Stiles better. Stiles is heart broken because of him. 

He’s dashing through the rain and scaling the house in a heartbeat, his entire being focused on Stiles’ soft breaths inside. He cracks open the window and slithers inside, eagerly removing his clothes and diving under the covers. Stiles instantly shifts into his arms, pillowing his head on Derek’s chest and hugging him tight. He can’t help the sigh of contentment that slips past his lips. He snuggles in and just starts to drift off when Stiles jolts upright, arms shoving at Derek sending him crashing off the bed. Sore and blinking hard Derek looks up at the boy leaning over the bed breathing hard. He looks angry and upset, no disappointed. It makes his gut clench, Derek hates it when Stiles is disappointed in him, but this time he deserves it, he’s been incredibly slow. When Stiles looks ready to speak, no doubt some angry tirade he’s half practiced during lacrosse practice, Derek surges up and kisses him silent. It’s soft and dry, more an overlong peck than anything else, but it makes Stiles’ heart stutter then crash in his chest. 

When Derek pulls back Stiles is exactly as he left him, hanging off the bed with this confused look Derek has never seen on him before. “It’s been you all along, I was just too stupid to realise it, but I have realised it Stiles and I won’t hurt you anymore. I’m in love with you, probably have been for a while.”  
He could feel his ears turning red and colour chasing across his cheeks, but he was nervous. He’d hurt him so much, he didn’t know if this time, Stiles would turn him away. Stiles propelled himself off the bed and landed in a heap in Derek’s arms, his fingers grabbing hold of Derek’s shoulders and dragging him into a heated kiss. Derek barely stopped himself from mounting the boy, but somehow he remained in enough control to let Stiles pull back for air. “This is the last time Derek or I swear to god I will shoot you full of wolfesbane. You break my heart again and you are a dead dog!”  
He barely had time to smirk before Stiles reattached himself to his lips.


End file.
